


Bundle of Joy

by Luv15



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29746995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luv15/pseuds/Luv15
Summary: While on a mission, Leia and Han find a clever way to escape Empirical police and Stormtroopers.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 31
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Erin Darroch and Justine Graham for their spot-on editorial assistance!

Bundle of Joy - Chapter 1

The mechanical whirring of dozens of Imperial speeders echoed around the nearly deserted city streets of Dikai, as Han Solo crept warily down one of its darkest alleys. The narrow, smelly, litter-strewn passage was one of many such dubious and dangerous gaps that separated one towering, mostly abandoned high-rise building from another.

Reaching a dilapidated door, he eased his way through it and into the corridor beyond., then paused for a moment with his back against the wall. He held his breath, listening intently as he gave his eyes time to adjust to the dim light.

Like so many of the structures in this once-thriving city, the old apartment building had seen better days. The planet Ulruth had long been a major manufacturing site for land speeders and other motorized forms of transport used throughout the galaxy, before the Empire took control of the factories and retrofitted them to produce AT-ATs, 74-Z speeder bikes and other vehicular armaments. In the process, thousands of sentient workers had been replaced with droids. Jobless and despondent, most of Dikai’s inhabitants had fled the city center, transforming the once-thriving industrial metropolis into a virtual ghost town.

With his back pressed against the chipped and peeling paint, Han crept his way along the wall, keeping his eyes keen for any signs of life in and around the shabby corridor. At a unit marked 454E he paused again, his right hand tightening on the grip of his DL-44 as he reached out with his left and nudged the door ajar.

Eerie flashes of electronic blue light and the droning voice of a holonews reporter filtered out from the gap. It seemed the apartment dwellers—or, more likely, recent looters—had not turned off the media unit before they had abandoned the premises.

With the toe of one booted foot, Han pushed against the splintered wooden door with a bit more force. The aging hinges groaned, and the door swung creakily inward to provide him with a wider view into a disheveled room. He rounded the edge of the frame stealthily, eyes and ears sharp to ascertain if any sentient beings were present. After a few minutes of cautious survey, he turned his head and called out, “All clear.”

A moment later, a slender figure clad in a dark, hooded robe slipped inside the apartment and closed the door behind her.

“Looks like they were in a rush to go,” Leia Organa breathed out as she threw back her hood and surveyed the clutter-filled dwelling.

“More likely been ransacked after they left,” Han mused as he rifled through items piled haphazardly atop a kaffe table. “Always somebody hopin’ to make a fast credit by combin’ through what others leave behind. There’s a black market for most anything.”

“Seems like the only thing of value here is the holovision,” Leia acknowledged. “I guess it’s too difficult to move.” She sighed heavily as she scanned the untidy space. “I hope we can find the instructions in this mess.”

“So remind me, what’re we lookin’ for? Could you read the message again?”

“Yes, just a moment,” Leia reached into her pocket and pulled forth a ragged flimsy, then frowned down at it as she read aloud. “Congratulations! We’ve an instructional parenting guide for you that targets the key things you should know. Enjoy the subtle weave of the receiving blanket, but mind the care instructions so it is not destroyed during cleansing, to insure that the innocent one remains safe and happy. Both items await you on your next visit. Excited for your bundle of joy to arrive.”

She looked up at Han and raised her shoulders in question. “It is rather odd,” she admitted.

Messages from Rebellion spies were always enigmatic, and often deliberately vague or convoluted to avoid Imperial detection of the real meaning if intercepted. The Dikai operative clearly did not have access to an encrypted comm system, so words with double-meanings had been used instead, and then the seemingly innocuous message had been distributed via traditional communication methods to other Alliance contacts who had the ability to pass the information along. There was no way to request clarification from the author, so they would just have to figure it out.

“Okay, so we’re lookin’ for a blanket and it sound like maybe a book of some kind,” Han said. “He probably encrypted the coordinates for the factories in them somehow.”

“It’s all we have to go on, but it seems straightforward enough,” Leia muttered as she began sifting through papers, clothing and household items mounded on the shabby sofa. 

“What the hell is a ‘receiving’ blanket, anyway?” Han wondered aloud as he picked through a pile of holozines and knick knacks precariously stacked on a bookshelf.

“It’s a small wrap used to swaddle a newborn,” Leia explained. “Although I don’t know what the word ‘receiving’ refers to. I don’t know that much about new babies, actually, apart from the basic equipment they require: diapers, bottles and, I guess...plenty of blankets.”

She dropped her gaze to the array of goods strewn about the floor—a tangled mess of items of the type she’d just mentioned, as well as an assortment of adult and baby clothing, housewares and toys. “From the looks of the things left behind, our contact must have an infant.”

Han recognized the wistful note in the princess’ voice. It was clear from her tone that her thoughts were drifting to how much courage it must have taken for their Rebel ally to risk his life, and that of his family. They might never learn of the contact’s fate or why they’d left the coded information behind, but nonetheless Han acknowledged the risk they’d taken in service of the Alliance.

“I’m sure they’re okay,” he reassured. “We’d have heard somethin’ by now if they’d been caught, right? With so many leavin’ here, I doubt the Empire would pay any mind to one young family headin’ out. Not many left in town, except for a thousand or so workin’ the civilian speeder works.”

Han frowned, thinking about how low Dikai had fallen since the Empire had taken control. The city had once been widely admired by technophiles—himself included—for its production of quality transportation products, and for its equitable treatment of workers. It had once enjoyed a much-deserved reputation for excellence in every respect, galaxy-wide. But not anymore; not since the Imps had commandeered the manufacturing plants, and pure profit, rather than fairness or value, had become the priority.

He stooped to rifle through another pile of items stacked beside an overturned chair, and his mood changed from gruff to gleeful as he seized upon a thick, well-worn book. “Well, that was easy!” he crowed. “At least, I think this must be it. Heads up.”

He straightened and tossed the tome to Leia, who was kneeling on the floor sifting through towels and bedding that the former owners must have deemed superfluous to their escape. She grunted lightly when she caught the weighty book.

“The Galaxy’s Guide to Parenting - Raising Your Child From Conception Through College - Humanoid Edition,” she read aloud from the cover. 

“That seems like the right kind of book, doesn’t it?” Han said.

He watched as the princess began flipping through the pages, as though she expected an object—a holodisc or a scrap of flimsy, perhaps—to be secreted in the leaves. Finding nothing on the first pass, she reopened the old-fashioned book and started turning carefully page by page. It took only a few moments before she let out a cry of success.

“Look,” she called to Han. “Don’t these look like coordinates to you?”

Han closed the distance between them and, as she held the book aloft for his perusal, glimpsed down at the handwritten notes on the inside of the cover page. First Trimester, it read, and then Second and Third, each heading with a different set of numbers jotted beneath.

“Very clever.” Leia’s voice was filled with pride for the cunning of the Rebel operative. “These must be coded coordinates for the location of three of the factories. Now all we need to do is find that blanket. It must identify the civilian speeder works location."

“Yeah,” Han agreed. “And we need to do that in time to get out of here before curfew.”

He slanted a glance at his chrono with a frown. They were running out of time before the streets were closed to civilian traffic, as they were every evening in Dikai. It didn’t help matters that they had been dropped off at the wrong location by a disinterested speeder cab driver, and consequently spent more than two standard hours searching for the correct address. As the unmistakable high-pitched whir of an Imperial police speeder filtered up from the street below, Han shot Leia a perturbed look. 

“Don’t start,” she warned. “I don’t need to hear again how you wanted your own transport for this. It wasn’t feasible.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off before he had the chance. “Besides, it will be fun to see Luke and the Rogues again,” she said, and then turned her attention once more to winnowing through the heap of fabrics on the floor. “What’s it been? Three months since we were all together?”

“Don’t try and sugar coat it, Sweetheart,” Han harrumphed. “This has been a pain in the ass and we’re not out of here yet. I’d feel better if Chewie and the Falcon were waitin’ at the Med Center docking bay. Bad enough we had to take the hospital shuttle filled with snot-nosed kids and germy old folks to get here.”

“The Falcon is becoming too well known to fly safely into Empire-controlled territory, even with fake transponder codes, and you know it. The Rogues’ borrowed ship will blend in with everyone else coming here for medical care.” 

Leia shook her head in dismissal of her mission partner’s grousing, and continued instead to yank on the corner of a messenger bag that was half-buried under a pile of pillows.

The bag wasn’t latched, and as she gave it a final, hard tug and pulled it free, its contents spilled out and she gave a joyful chirp. 

“Got it!” She brandished a small blanket in her hand, and began waving it in circles above her head. 

“Sure that’s it?” Han crouched down on one knee beside her. Leia worked the soft cover through her fingers, seeking the care instruction tag sewn into a corner. There, as the flimsy foretold, was another set of coordinates neatly printed on the underside of the tag.

Leia beamed up at Han. “Let’s roll, Flyboy!” But her gorgeous smile faded as the sound of curfew sirens began to blare from the street. 

“Fuck,” Han muttered. “Too late.”

“No!” Leia voiced emphatically. “The Rogues’ docking reservation ends at midnight. We can still make it, but we need to find a way to the hospital now.”

“And just how are we supposed to do that, Your Worship? In about ten minutes, the final alarm will sound and then the Imp cops’ll be roaming the streets, blastin’ anything that moves.” 

“I’m not sure, but we’ll figure something out,” she replied as she folded the blanket and began stuffing it into the messenger bag along with the book. But something was preventing the items from lying flat inside the worn leather pouch. Leia’s delicate fingers delved inside and a moment later she pulled out a small, plush toy pitten. Its purple ears were faded and worn, probably the result of being used as a teething baby’s chew toy.

“Someone is missing this,” she sighed, holding the pitten up and stroking its soft belly with her thumb. 

“All right, all right,” Han grabbed the toy from her and shoved it into the bag that now held the book and blanket. “Don’t get all blubbery.”

“I am not blubbery, you Nerf!” she snapped. “Have you no empathy for that baby and its parents? They obviously took a huge risk for the Rebellion and now they’re—”

“I ain’t sayin’ that, Princess,” Han said placatingly. “Just don’t see how a baby toy is gonna get us out of thi…wait a minute.” He abruptly stopped complaining as a plan began to take shape in his mind. He began to rummage through the items on a nearby table, tossing the useless ones with disregard to the floor. 

“What are you looking for?” 

“Thought I saw some packing tape around here.”

“You mean this?” Leia queried as she unearthed a large roll of heavy-duty tape and handed it to him. “What’s your idea?” 

“We’re going to the hospital,” he said with a smug grin.

She cast him a wary look. “And we’re avoiding the Imperial police, how?”

“We ain’t,” he smiled down at her. “They’re gonna take us there.”

“Are you insane?” Leia cried. “Just how are you expecting…”

“That’s exactly it, Princess. Expecting.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “We’re having a baby, Sweetheart. Right now.”

“Oh. Oh, no. Nooooo,” Leia’s brown eyes widened and she shook her braided head in refusal.

“C’mon, just a bit of play actin’,” Han nudged her shoulder. “No different than any other—”

“I am NOT willingly climbing into an Imperial police speeder pretending to be….”

“The mother of my child?” Han winked.

“Who said it’s yours,” Leia tossed back with a sour smile, although Han thought he glimpsed a spark of amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Ha!” he crowed. “So, we’re doing this!”

“No, we’re not.”

“Listen, Sweetheart, it’s either that or we miss the rendezvous with the Rogues.”

Leia sighed. Heavily.

Fifteen minutes later and with a bit of help from the princess, Han had managed to construct a sizable baby bump from a pillowcase packed with soft towels wrapped around his blaster rig—the Imp cops were sure to take that from him.. The mound had been secured with layers of packing tape wrapped around Leia’s petite figure. 

A flowing, floral maternity dress that they’d pulled from a stack of discarded clothing completed the look. The original owner of the garment had obviously been taller than the diminutive princess; its lower hem fell nearly to the floor—but that was a good thing, since it covered the rest of Leia’s utilitarian outfit and her sturdy but somewhat incongruous boots.

As he stepped back to admire his handiwork, Han did his best to ignore the glare he could feel coming from Leia’s eyes. He moved toward her and placed both hands on her “bump,” tugging lightly to see that the tape was holding. 

To his surprise, the sight of her like this was affecting in a strange, visceral way. He had often fantasized about the woman who stood before him, imagining so many scenarios, states of undress and romantic situations, but nothing had ever taken him aback quite like this—nor created the fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach—as seeing her in this guise. 

He half expected Leia to complain, or to begin spewing caustic remarks non-stop. But she was unusually quiet...and he could have sworn she was blushing. 

“Well,” Leia asked, interrupting his thoughts. Raising her arms above her head, she turned about in a tight circle. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his reverent gaze taking in her new form.

Leia’s eyes widened in surprise.

He coughed, and then added with a dose of bluster, “I think that’ll do it. You definitely look knocked up.

With a sneer at his choice of words, Leia swiveled around and then headed towards the cracked mirror that was mounted on one wall. 

Gazing at herself in the mirror, the petite Alderaani’s eyes widened at the sight of her disguised body. She fell silent for a few moments as she turned from side to side to view her reflection from all angles. She looked pensive, almost sentimental, as though the sight of herself like this was something she had never expected to see. The expression was fleeting, though; within a few seconds, her playful grin had returned, and she turned to him with a wry snort. 

“Did you have to make me look so huge?” she asked, as she ran her hands along her sides and over the swell of her stomach.

“I’ve got a big blaster,” Han smirked, “and I needed a place to hide it. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you ever so much,” she returned, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“And besides,” he said with a grin. “Corellian babies are notoriously large and heavy at birth, so it’s only….”

Leia scowled and shot him a hot glare. “It is NOT a Corellian baby!”

“My idea,” Han fired back. “My baby.”

Leia’s gaze turned withering. “This had better work,” she warned.

“It will.” 

“I don’t know,” Leia said, turning back to gaze at her reflection once more. She ran her hand over the mound and then gave it a light pat. “I have a bad feeling about this.”


	2. Bundle of Joy - Chapter 2

“You are getting crumbs all over this cruiser,” snarled Imperial law officer Enos Lanziff to his patrol partner, who was riding shotgun beside him.

“Want some?” the patrolman mumbled, his words muffled by the crunch of spiced tuber chips that filled his mouth. As the bag was haphazardly presented, a portion of the greasy crisps flew out of the bag onto Lanziff’s lap.

“For Sith’s sake!” Lanziff howled, brushing the errant bits from his precisely creased uniform trousers with one hand while gripping the speeder’s steering control with the other. “You’re cleaning up this mess before we turn in this unit at shift end.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Rinco Tanzer replied around his mouthful of chips, and then smacked his lips and took a noisy slurp from his galactic-sized go-cup of Tatooine Dew. “Lighten up, man. It’s our last patrol before a fortnight of R&R.” 

“I am counting the seconds,” Lanziff muttered. He watched, scoffing under his breath as the sloppy, balding man crumpled the now empty bag, tossed it onto the floor next to his scuffed boots, and then wiped his hands along his rumpled pants.

The fastidious Lanziff sighed, casting a sidelong glance at the chrono on the dash. There was only an hour left in their shift, and he hoped that it would pass without incident. All that would be required when they returned to the station would be to submit a simple report, and then he’d be escaping from his less-than-diligent partner for multiple time parts.

And then, he turned the corner. 

“Oh, for —.”

There, standing on the pavement beside the speeder path, was a tall humanoid male waving his long arms and calling for help. 

Why, Lanziff thought with an inward groan. Why now with only one time part left on this shift?

“Well,” Rinco said matter-of-factly, “best see what he wants.” 

Lanziff grabbed his partner’s arm as he reached for his blaster. “Set that thing to stun!” he warned. “I don’t want to deal with the paperwork if you blast him!”

Rinco frowned. “I ain’t gonna blast him. He’s the one asking for us to stop.” He glanced out the window. “And he looks harmless. See, he’s smiling.”

As he inched the cruiser to the side of the speeder path, Lanziff scrutinized the stranger with a narrowed gaze. “I don’t know,” he intoned. “He looks Corellian, and any Corellian I ever met was a crazy son of a bitch.” 

Rinco thumbed a button on the door panel control, lowering the transparisteel window enough that the stranger could see the blaster he brandished. “Step back from the cruiser,” he ordered. “And keep your hands where we can see them.”

XXXXXX  
As the last of the daylight faded from the Ulruthi sky, the Imperial cruiser came to a halt. It hovered on its repulsors at the edge of the speeder path as the officer on the passenger side released his door and stepped out. Han Solo, standing foursquare on the pavement, raised his arms above his head, keeping his palms facing outward in a gesture of compliance. 

“Boy,” he gushed in an exaggerated tone of relief, “am I glad to see you guys!” 

“Papers,” the patrolman said flatly. 

Han nodded and lowered one arm to reach into his jacket pocket, stopping midway when the cop pointing the blaster waved it at him.

“Uhhhh…you want ID, right? It’s here, in my jacket….” 

“Oh, for Sith’s sake, Tanzer,” came the voice of the second officer from inside the cruiser.. “Let him get his papers.”

Moving with slow purpose, Han retrieved the forged ID from his jacket and placed it into the trooper’s outstretched hand.

“So, Stephan Solokin,” the officer—Tanzer, he now knew—read aloud from the document. “Whatcha doing out here after curfew?”

“Well, you see, my wife—.”

“Stephan?” 

Han fought to contain a smile at the sound of Leia’s voice—the sound of it so tremulous and pitiful, it almost convinced him she really was in despair. It was perfect, and just as they’d rehearsed. 

Tanzer’s hand tightened on the grip of his blaster. “What the—.” 

As the trooper took a menacing step forward, Han held up placating hands once more. “No, wait. Wait, see….” He moved toward the high hedgerow that flanked the speeder path and drew Leia from the shadows into the hazy glow of the streetlamp. Her dark robe flared open as she moved, and she kept one arm slung low across the rounded swell of her abdomen. Han saw the trooper’s eyes widen. 

“I’m here, Sweetheart,” he soothed. “These nice guys are going to help us get to the medcenter.” 

Leia clutched at Han’s arm with her free hand, and cast a pleading glance at the officer. “Please,” she said, punctuating her words with a low moan. “We need to hurry. There isn’t much time….”

The officer’s expression softened, and he holstered his weapon and then moved to take Leia’s arm. “I’m Tanzer,” he said kindly, “and the guy in the speeder is Lanziff. Don’t you worry, we’ll get you there, little lady. It’s less than half a time-part from here.” 

He opened the back door of the cruiser and gently helped Leia inside, pushing Han in next to her while grabbing the messenger bag from Han’s hand. “I got this. It’ll give you more room.” 

Han watched as the two troopers exchanged a look as Tanzer settled back into his seat. 

“Hey!” Tanzer addressed his partner. “You wanted to end the shift with no trouble, right? Look at it this way. These two guarantee we don’t gotta stop for anything else.”

“And we can’t thank you enough,” Han said, leaning forward to clap Tanzer on the shoulder. As the speeder pulled out into the thoroughfare, Han leaned back and slung an arm around Leia, easing her back to rest in the crook of his arm. 

“You doing okay, Layla?” he asked. Then he gave Leia’s ribs a strong poke, and she cried out on cue. 

“It’s getting bad, guys,” Han said, loading his voice with as much concern as he could muster. “You might want to speed it up...and maybe put those sirens on?”

From the driver’s seat, Lanziff shot his passengers a look of veiled panic and then flicked a switch on the control panel which engaged the siren’s nasally wail. The speeder gave a jolt as he engaged the overdrive, and Han could hear the pitch of the engine change as the vehicle began to accelerate. 

Han feigned planting a kiss in Leia’s hair, angling his head just enough to whisper in her ear. “Good work, Worship.”

“I wasn’t exactly acting. You didn’t have to jab me that hard,” Leia grumbled in a whisper. “And get that bag back from him.”

“I will, I will,” Han muttered. “No need to be so grouchy.”

“Grouchy?” Leia fired back, so loudly that Han flinched and Tanzer shifted in his seat to peer into the back seat. Leia, neatly covering her outburst, lifted plaintive eyes to the officer with a look of abject pity. “It just...it hurts so bad.” 

Han quickly clasped Leia’s hand to demonstrate his concern. “There there, Sweetheart. This’ll all be over soon.”

“Hang tight, we’re almost there,” Tanzer said with a reassuring smile, and then turned his attention to Han. “So whaddya do, Stephan?”

“Design engineer at the speeder works,” Han replied, recounting the details of the backstory that had been carefully crafted to fit his false identity.

“Oh yeah?” Tanzer’s voice lifted with interest. “How ‘bout that new JJ79? Looks pretty slick.”

“Looks ain’t everything,” Han replied. “Lousy thruster system and eats fuel cells like a starving rancor. Piece of bantha fodder.” 

“Good to know,” the Imperial nodded. “Not that I could afford one, anyway.”

“All style, no substance. Those aren’t built to last. The THX1138. Now, that’s a classic. Launched a whole series of great models.” As he spoke, Han pulled Leia close and sneakily inflicted another poke to her ribs.

Leia reacted with a startled gasp, which she quickly covered with a keening moan. “So help me, Stephan,” she hissed at Han through clenched teeth, “once this is over, you will never touch me again.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Han saw Tanzer shoot his partner a wry look. “I hear they all say that,” he quipped. 

“Laugh all you want, pal,” Lanziff groused. “But if we don’t make it and she has that baby back there, you’re cleaning up a bigger mess than the chip crumbs.” 

Tanzer grimaced, and then quickly gestured at a point in the distance. “Turn there,” he said. “We can cut through the alley, save ourselves at least five minutes.” 

“Good call. Hang on, folks,” Lanziff announced. “Gonna need to make a tight left here.” 

As the speeder pitched and changed direction, Tanzer looked over his shoulder once more. “Speaking of cornering, Solokin, I hear that the THX can—.”

Leia cut him off with another exaggerated moan. “I cannot believe you guys,” she groaned. “Talking about speeder models at a time like this!”

“Sorry, Sweetheart.” Han strived for a sympathetic tone as he tightened his arm around her, drawing her close once more. “We’re just trying to keep your mind off the pain. And besides, you’re making the guys a bit nervous.”

“I’m making them nervous?” Leia exclaimed. “You have all the empathy of a Hutt! I’m the one in pain in the backseat of an Imperial Police Cruiser!” With that, she buried her face in his chest and, taking advantage of their closeness, whispered emphatically in his ear once more. “Get. That. Bag.”

Han took advantage, too. Holding her beautiful face in his hands, he bent his head and softy kissed her lips. “I’m on it.”

He reached over and tapped Tanzer’s shoulder. “Hey buddy, can you hand me that bag? There’s a book in there that has info on labor timing.”

“Sure thing.” Tanzer leaned forward and snagged the leather pouch from the floorboard. But instead of giving it to Han, he pulled the well-worn book from the bag and began thumbing through its tattered pages.

“Hmmm…let’s see. Labor, labor…ah, first question. Has her water broken?”

“What?” Lanziff snapped. “You are so cleaning that up!” 

“I am right here,” Leia snarled. “And, no, it has not.”

“Great! That gives us more time.” The chunky lawman gave her a sweet smile before turning back to his partner. “Gee,” he said under his breath, “she’s tetchy.” 

Lanziff gave a shrug while Tanzer turned his attention back to the book. “Here’s some good news, Stephan,” he crowed. “It says right here: ‘Do not think there is something wrong if she seems angry’.” 

All three men chortled.

“Oh, give me that book!” Disengaging herself from Han’s grasp, Leia leaned forward and snatched the book from the stunned officer. As she settled back into the seat, she jabbed a sharp elbow into Han’s ribs.

“Ooof. What was that for?” 

“Let’s just see how you like being on the receiving end of a sharp pain every five minutes!”

“Aww, Sweetheart, calm down.” Han pointed through the transparisteel at the sign marking the exit for the medical center. “See, we’re almost there.” He moved his hand to give her another poke but Leia halted him with a preemptive moan and a stony glare.

“Oh, for Sith’s sake!” Lanziff grumbled when faced with flashing lights and a line of stopped traffic in the road ahead. “NOW, what?”

“Looks like some kinda roadblock.” 

Gazing through the windscreen, Han’s heart sank at the sight of a dozen Stormtroopers working the line of traffic ahead of them, seeking papers and inspecting vehicle interiors.

“Bucketheads,” Tanzer sneered in disdain. “Always sooo superior. Where do they get off messin’ around in our jurisdiction, anyway?” 

“Shut up,” Lanziff hissed as he brought the speeder to a halt, turned off the siren and lowered the window as a stormtrooper approached.

p>Leia grip tightened around Han’s arm, and he could feel her start to tremble. “It’ll be okay, Princess,” he whispered. “Just keep up the act.”

“What’s going on?” Lanziff asked the white-clad soldier. 

“Rumors about some Rebel scum trying to get off planet,” the trooper’s flat, droning voice filtered through his helmet. 

He leaned in and peered through the window into the back seat, raising his weapon to point at the occupants there. “And what do we have here?”

“Just a couple trying to get to the med center to bring a new defender of the Empire into the galaxy,” Lanziff stated. 

“Open the door,” the trooper snarled.

Lanziff hopped out of the front seat to follow the order. When he pulled open the door, Leia started to writhe, wildly clutching at Han’s arms and crying, “I want to push!” 

Han scrambled to come up with a response. “No, Sweetheart...it’s too soon...just hang on….” 

The trooper visibly recoiled, and then stepped back, slamming the door shut.

“Well?” Lanziff asked, peering up at the Stormtrooper.

“You’re clear,” the Imp cried. “Go, go, go!” Within minutes, the cruiser was pulling up to the brightly-lit emergency entrance, maneuvering around dozens of ambulances which were dropping off patients. 

Tanzer hopped from his seat to grab a hoverchair, and Han eased Leia into it as she clung tightly to the book.

Han reached into the front seat to grab the messenger bag and then excitedly pumped Lanziff’s hand. “Can’t thank you enough,” he said. “We’ll always remember you two.” Solo gave Tanzer a casual salute, and directed the hoverchair toward the entrance. 

“Watch for them to leave,” Solo muttered to Leia as he directed the hoverchair away from the cruiser. “Then, all we gotta do is find Luke’s ship.”


	3. Chapter 3

The commandeered ambulance squealed to a halt at the docking bay checkpoint. 

“Emergency on the Twin Suns. Bay number?” Han demanded from the sleepy attendant. 

The scrawny young man slouched behind the booth fumbled with a data pad, anxiously searching for the information before finally calling out, “Number 37, up ahead on the right.” 

Solo didn’t wait to reply. He stomped his foot down on the accelerator and turned the siren to full blare. “This is fun!” he turned to gleefully grin at Leia. “Always wanted to drive one of these babies.”

“I’m so glad I could help you tick off a box on your fantasy wish list,” Leia snorted sarcastically. 

“Oh, I could think of a few more you could help out with, Sweetheart,” he winked at her, then laughed as she frowned at him. “You walked right into that one!” 

She shook her braided head as they pulled up to the sealed ramp of the Twin Suns. “No one can say you don’t know how to make an entrance, Flyboy.”

The sirens had caught the attention of the Rogues who were now gathered atop the lowering ramp to welcome them. 

“Cutting it close,” Luke whistled as he took the messenger bag from Han. Wedge, Wes, Hobby and Tycho all cheerfully greeted the duo as they entered with them into the ship’s lounge.

“Long time, no see! What’s new?” Wes asked Solo with an enthusiastic handshake as Leia shrugged out of her flowing robe.

A stunned silence befell the cabin. The Rogues were gaping, all five sets of eyes locked on the Princess in shocked surprise.

“What the hells...oh,” Solo chuckled as he pulled Leia close, one arm around her shoulder, one hand proprietarily splayed across her bump. “We’re engaged,” he solemnly stated, while enjoying the dumbfounded looks on the Rogues’ faces. 

Leia shoved the teasing Corellian off of her. “Help me out of this, you Nerf.” 

Luke watched in consternation as Han lifted the gown off over Leia’s head. He blinked his wide blue eyes. His boyish face crinkled in a smile as Han stepped aside and revealed the criss-crossed tape holding the princess’s costume together. With a short laugh, the young Jedi turned away, shaking his head as he headed back to the cockpit. “Be back soon. I’m gonna go prepare for take-off,” Luke told his crew. 

“Get this off of me,” Leia winced as she rubbed at her lower back. “That blaster weighs a ton. No wonder your thighs are so…” She immediately pressed her lips together to stop the words from coming out.

“You been checkin’ out my thighs, Worship?” Han winked at her and patted his creation. “C’mon baby boy,” he tugged at the sticky tape, “Come to papa.”

“Who said it’s a boy?” Leia groused. 

Wedge flicked a tight-lipped smile to Hobbie, who smirked in reply. Man, they had missed this bickering twosome who were always good for a laugh.

“Kinda like Stephan for a name,” Solo opined as he worked on unraveling the adhesive strips that held the bump in place. “Stephan Solo has a nice ring to it, no?” 

“NO! It does not,” Leia bit back sharply, still rubbing her lower back. “I went through the pain, so I say it’s a girl. And I get to name her!”

Luke stepped back into the main cabin. “We’re lifting off in five minutes. What are they fighting about now?” he queried his Rogue companions.

“What to name their baby,” Hobbie laughed. 

“Okay, okay,” Han conceded to the Princess as he tried to divest the sticky tape from his hand. “It’s a girl. Whaddya wanna call her?”

“Jaina,” was her quiet response.

Surprised, Han looked up from his task and into her eyes. He gently took her hand. “Really? That’s Corellian.” 

She nodded, gifting him with a soft grin.

“You know that was my mom’s name?” he asked her in a low, soft voice.

“It’s a beautiful name and this,” she waved her hand in front of the remaining bits of bump, “turned out to be a great idea. So, thank you.” 

For once, the former smuggler seemed at a loss for words. His only response was a slight upturn of his charmingly crooked lips as the last bit of tape was tugged from Leia’s disguise with an audible snap. Han caught the padded pillowcase before it could hit the decking and carefully unraveled the towels that had enrobed his blaster and holster.

“Look, honey!” he crowed. “She has Grandpa DL-44’s nose!” 

Leia rolled her eyes but couldn’t not laugh at his waggish remark.

Soon, Luke’s warm voice was drifting over the P.A. system. “Strap in for take-off and then hyper, everybody. ETA for Polis Massa is nine standard hours.”

Polis Massa Base had become a haven for Alliance espionage planners and their assets. Chewie would be docked there, waiting to whisk Leia and Han back to Hoth. The Rogues' three X-wings also were berthed at the base where they had switched vessels to the Twin Suns for the mission. There, the intel Han and Leia obtained would be confirmed then utilized by Alliance bomb squads to take out the three drone armament factories while preserving the citizen-worker-filled speeder works.

The Twin Suns had smoothly entered hyperspace, enabling its passengers to freely move about the main cabin. 

Luke rubbed his hands together as he joined the others in the lounge. “Wedge is on watch grumbling that you two had better give him the complete story when he’s relieved,” he pointed to Leia and Han.

“I came up with a brilliant plan, if I say so, myself,” Solo smiled smugly as he leaned back with his arms raised above his head, hands clasped atop his shaggy head.

The Princess glared at him. “Right, Hotshot. You take all the credit, while I did all the labor.” She looked up with a sweet smile and a nod to accept a plate of warm food from Hobbie. Leaning into the table in front of the acceleration couch, she blew out a satisfied, “Mmmmh, I need this and a hot shower. My back is aching.”

Han’s arms dropped and began rubbing her lower back in firm circles. “Oooh,” the Princess sighed. “That feels soooo good.”

“And you said you’d never let me touch you again,” Han chuckled.

“Not jab and pinch!” Leia rolled the sleeve of her shirt to display a series of purpling bruises.

Solo’s eyebrows shot up, “Damn, Sweetheart! Didn’t know you were so delicate.”

“Stop stalling,” Tycho groused. ”We want the scoop.”

Solo began recounting the events in over-the-top Corellian fashion. The spacer had poured the contents of the messenger bag onto the table and used the items - book, plush toy, and blanket - as props to illustrate his tale which was greeted with Rogue laughter and asides.

“Can you imagine those cops' reactions when they realize who they drove to their escape?” Wes roared in delight.

Leia grinned. “I hope they never do. Just wish I knew if our operative got out safely.”

“I meant to tell you!” Luke exclaimed. "Got a little distracted on your arrival. She did! And her family. We met them on Polis Massa.” 

“Thank the Goddess!” Leia sighed in relief. She was delighted and proud to learn that the activist behind all this was female.

“She was giving details about where all the arms were being shipped. We now know where the Empire is gearing up and are planning pre-emptive strikes. But, here’s the best part,” Luke beamed at her.

“There’s more?”

“Her baby’s name is Leia.”

The royal young woman’s eyes went wide as she leaned back into the couch cushion. “Oh, my.”

Han took her hand and said with sincere respect, “You’re an inspiration, Leia. Generations of women will be named in your honor. Tomorrow,” he continued, waving the toy pitten at her, “we’re making a special delivery to one of ‘em.”


	4. Epilogue

Enos Lanziff maneuvered the police cruiser into its parking berth for the final time for two full weeks.

“We did a good thing tonight, Enos,” his portly partner nodded over at him. “See, it wasn’t all bad.”

The thinner of the two hummed, then wagged a finger at Rinco. “Still need to vacuum out those crumbs! I’m checking in.”

Rinco Tanzer watched as his cohort ambled away, feeling good that their shift ended on such a positive note.

Once he cleaned out the cruiser, his long-awaited holiday could commence. 

With a yawn, he trotted over to the vending machine, slipped in a credit and, after a thunk, popped the top on a pouch of kavasa juice.

Sipping the tart liquid, his eyes drifted to the precinct bulletin board, skimming the messages of “For Sale” or “Petsitter Needed” notes from co-workers until the Wanted Posters caught his attention. 

A sickening wave of recognition caused him to spit out his drink. There, smiling down at him, were images of Stephan and Layla -- aka Han Solo and Princess Leia Organa.  
“Oh, no, no, no, no.” 

He glanced quickly around and, confirming he was alone, ripped the two flimsies off the board, crumpling them in his hands and depositing them in the nearby bin. He was determined to send Lanziff off on holiday with no regrets.


End file.
